


ghost

by ewagan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:10:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5960275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewagan/pseuds/ewagan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><i>Tooru.</i> He says it like a prayer, a benediction. It almost feels like one, a way to keep Oikawa near him.</p>
</blockquote><p>In which they don't meet as children but as adults.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ghost

They meet late one night, when Hajime lets Hanamaki talk him into joining one of their drinking sessions. Oikawa is all hooded lids and easy smiles, elegant hands curled around a glass of beer. They talk about inane things, like the weather and winter and Oikawa laughs at some terrible joke he makes. Maybe three drinks and a plate of peanuts later, Hajime finds himself wondering what Oikawa tastes like, eyes watching Oikawa’s every move.

It’s easy, so easy, to just lean forward and press a chaste kiss to his mouth, deepening it when Oikawa opens up beneath him. He tastes like cheap alcohol and salted peanuts and they break apart, then Hajime is diving in again, kissing him harder this time, hands reaching out to tug Oikawa closer.

Oikawa laughs, soft and dangerous and then he kisses Hajime like Hajime has never been kissed before. He whispers in Hajime’s ear _come with me_ and tugs at his wrist, eyes too bright and an edge to his smile, lips bruised from too much kissing. Hajime is helpless and unable to say no, so he lets himself be pulled away, the two of them disappearing into the night and Hajime’s heart racing in his chest, reminding him he’s alive.

 

* * *

 

 

Oikawa fits easily into his life, with his laughter and teasing and the way he breathes out _Hajime_ like it’s a secret beholden only to him. Soon enough, he wonders how he lived before Oikawa, before these sunlight mornings kisses and soft smiles and softer hair, sharp edges soothed away with careful touches and hazy smiles.

He learns Oikawa, the way one learns a person in the quietest moments. Oikawa is secrets that need unraveling, gently tugging on a loose end until it gives. He’s late night laughter and bad sci-fi movies, with stars in his eyes and quiet mornings where they make out under the sheets, lazy touches and breathless murmurs. Hajime marvels at the contradictions he is, the way can be sharp and cruel in one moment, but a needy child the next. His wrists are painfully thin and delicate, yet his fingers are strong when they press bruises into Hajime’s shoulder.

They go out together on weekends, when Hajime is free from work and Oikawa isn’t doing whatever it is he does while Hajime works. They go to the park, where the ducks take a definite liking to him but seem to abhor Oikawa, squawking indignantly when he so much as draws near to the pond. It makes Hajime laugh as he coaxes one closer while Oikawa stands some ten feet away, watching with a petulant expression on his face.

They dart around shelves in libraries, Oikawa giggling and it feels like he’s in high school again, with a horribly huge crush on a beautiful boy who would never love him back, but he’s lucky this time. He reaches out and catches Oikawa’s jacket, silencing the giggling with a kiss and feeling like he never wants to let this go.

 

* * *

 

One night, Oikawa calls him at just as he’s falling asleep. _Let’s go_ he says, and Hajime’s only reply is _where_.

They drive out to the ocean, and Oikawa’s smile is brilliant, it’s blinding and Hajime can feel something catching in his chest. They shed their socks and shoes and roll up their jeans and then they’re running, Oikawa’s hand pulling him forward, unspoken promises on his lips and Hajime doesn’t know what to do with the feeling bursting in his chest.

They hit the water running, Oikawa laughs as he pulls Hajime in deeper, wading until they’re waist deep in chilly water and Oikawa’s kissing him, and he wants and he wants. He wants so badly even as his hands curve over Oikawa’s waist, clenching at the fabric of his jacket as the waves crash around them.

He doesn’t realize he’s trembling until Oikawa’s holding him, and it’s easy to bury his face into Oikawa’s jacket and let himself have this. He’s allowed to be happy in this lifetime, with a beautiful boy that has starlight in his skin, promises on his lips.

He wants to scream at Oikawa, yell until his lungs give out. _I love you I love you I’m so in love with you_ but the words don’t make it out, just another desperate kiss and fingers that dig too tight.

 

* * *

 

_That’s Gemini, there._ Oikawa points out later, when they sit on the beach waiting for their clothes to dry a little. _They were the twins, Castor and Pollux. Helen’s brothers. Helen of Troy, y’know? One of them was immortal, but the other wasn’t. So when Pollux died, Castor asked the gods to take his immortality and place them in the stars together instead_. Hajime listens to him recount the story, and wonders if fate was so cruel as two separate people that way. But the gods were fickle creatures after all, and fate was not kind. There were countless stories of tragic lovers and broken families to testify to it. He wonders briefly if he and Oikawa are like that as well, doomed lovers who cannot be together but for this short period.

There’s something indefinably sad about Oikawa’s profile and the soft sigh he releases as he tells the story that makes Hajime wrap his arms around him, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of Oikawa’s jaw.

They sit there and wait for the sun to rise, the sky changing colours as they lean into each other for warmth.

 

* * *

 

He learns that Oikawa used to play volleyball, but he stopped in his first year of high school. There’s something wistful about it, and Hajime asks why. _Because I wasn’t good enough, the team kept losing_ is the cryptic answer and Hajime is frustrated by it. _Volleyball is a team sport_ he yells and swats at Oikawa with a pillow. _There are six people in a team, not one. You can’t play volleyball alone._ Oikawa’s smile is sad and rueful and Hajime wonders how did he come to be this way.

_No one ever told me that before_.

It feels too much like a confession and Hajime doesn’t understand why it makes him want to cry. Instead, he pulls Oikawa closer and wonders if it’s safe to tell him that he’s not alone anymore, he doesn’t have to be alone. He’s here for him, and if Oikawa chooses, he won’t ever let go.

But words aren’t his gift and he stumbles over them and they never come out the way they should. It frustrates him and he wishes he was better at this, this taking the jagged pieces that Oikawa shows him and piecing them back together into a whole. He doesn’t say the words, instead pulling Oikawa closer and pressing a kiss to his temple.

He hopes it's enough, but he's almost certain it isn't. _Let's go play again sometime_ , he murmurs instead. He could persuade Hanamaki and Matsukawa, he's certain. If not he'll just pull in the favour they owe him. The smile Oikawa gives him is blinding if tremulous, and he can feel his heart clenching in his chest.

 

* * *

 

Hajime unearths his camera and he starts taking pictures, framing smiles and soft skin and a look that makes his stomach clench and his heart hurt. There’s laughter and leather jackets and a secret between both of them, and more late night drives to the beach. He takes pictures of everything, their in between moments and whispered promises, visits to the park and Oikawa’s face scrunched in concentration as he reads a book. He prints them out, a kaleidescope of colours and images to track this part of his life. Photos scatter his bedroom and living room floor and he doesn’t mind the mess for once, laughing as he takes pictures of Oikawa sorting through them on the floor.

He tells Oikawa he wanted to be a photographer once. _It’s in the moment_ , he explains. _It’s trying to capture something you can lose forever. Like the sand that slips beneath your feet on a beach, washed away by the ocean. Suddenly the ground is gone from underneath you._

Oikawa smiles and presses a kiss to Hajime’s wrist, as if it was enough reassurance that he wasn’t nearly so fleeting.

_I don’t want to lose you_ are the words he doesn’t say. Already he can feel Oikawa slipping through his fingers. So he takes more pictures, as if they’ll be able to make up for what feels like an inevitable loss.

 

* * *

 

Somewhere, something changes.

Hajime can’t pin it down, not precisely. But things aren’t quite the same. The closest he’d have to comparing it would probably be a sense of deja vu, but he’s never lived this life before. It's still easy to go through the motions, making himself coffee and Oikawa tea in the mornings, while Oikawa makes them a simple breakfast and he kisses Oikawa before he leaves for work.

He pretends he doesn’t notice the way Oikawa tends to ignore his phone as it chimes a new message, screen flashing urgently. He wants to reach over and find out who it is, but Oikawa waves it off with a smile and an emphatic _it’s not important_ , so that means it is important and it matters but Hajime can’t do anything about it.

So instead he says Oikawa’s name.

_Tooru_. He says it like a prayer, a benediction. It almost feels like one, a way to keep Oikawa near him. The look on Oikawa’s face is almost reverent, and he kisses Hajime like he’s drowning. They tumble into bed easily, a tangle of limbs and sheets.

Late at night when Oikawa is sleeping next to him, he whispers it again, softer and maybe with something akin to desperation. _Tooru_. But there’s no answer besides Oikawa’s steady breathing and the drumming of his heart, and Hajime wonders why it feels like Oikawa isn’t here.

_Where have you gone_ he wants to ask, _where are you going from here?_ His fingers hover over Oikawa’s hair, almost close enough to touch, but not enough. Never enough.

 

* * *

 

_I need to go away for a while._ Hajime's hands pause in the middle of chopping vegetables, not entirely certain that he's heard right. So he turns and looks at Oikawa, who has a strangely pensive look on his face. He wants to ask _where_ and _will you come back._ Oikawa shrugs, lips pressed into an unhappy line. Something in his chest aches and Hajime puts down the knife to reach out to Oikawa, his hand cupping Oikawa's face gently as Oikawa leans into the touch.

They stay that way for a while, until Hajime goes back to preparing dinner for them. They eat in silence and later, Oikawa presses his face into Hajime's shoulder. Hajime rubs comforting circles into his back and pretends not to pay attention to the quiet tremors under his hands.

 

* * *

 

_I’ll call you._ Oikawa promises at the train station. He’s going to Miyagi, _back home_ he says. Hajime is almost tempted to go with him. He hasn’t seen his folks since New Year’s and he misses his mother, but he has work and other responsibilities here. So instead, he pulls Oikawa into a dark corner and kisses him fiercely, kisses him like a drowning man. He kisses Oikawa until his lips are swollen and bruised and Oikawa smiles at him, hands clenched in Hajime’s jacket. _I love you_ , he tells Oikawa. It’s the first time he’s able to say the words out loud and something in Oikawa’s eyes soften. _I love you too_ , he whispers, like it’s a secret for both of them, a moment suspended in a dark corner of a train station, mussed hair and red lips.

Hajime watches him board the train, watches until the train is out of sight. He doesn’t know why he feels like he’s lost something terribly important. Oikawa will come back, after all. But he doesn’t leave the platform until long after the train has departed.

 

* * *

 

Hajime works. He calls his mother and spends an hour on the phone with her, talking about nothing and everything. She tells him about the vegetable garden she started and asks him to come home soon, that she misses him. His voice is thick when he tells her that he misses her too, and promises he’ll visit soon.

He smokes perhaps more than he should, the sharp inhale of smoke steadying him more than he cares to admit. He catches himself preparing tea for an Oikawa who is not here, and cooking more food than he should. It’s strange, because he’s only known Oikawa a handful of months, and somehow Oikawa has worked his way into his life in such a way Hajime is at a loss when confronted by his absence. His apartment feels too empty for him, his bed is cold so he takes to sleeping on the couch, passed out listening to some terrible documentary about UFOs that would have had Oikawa indignant and angry about how inaccurate and ignorant it was.

If he decides to go out drinking with Hanamaki and Matsukawa on Friday, it’s no one’s business besides his own.

 

* * *

 

Oikawa returns at the end of the month.

Hajime is glad to see him, his heart pounding in his chest as he pulls Oikawa into an embrace. He’s warm and solid and Hajime feels a bit more reassured, even though Oikawa hugs him tighter than strictly necessary. _I’m home_ , he whispers, his face pressed into Hajime’s neck. And Hajime smiles when he says the words _welcome home._

Oikawa doesn’t tell him what happens, and Hajime doesn’t ask. There is something painfully fragile in Oikawa’s eyes that makes him decide against prying until Oikawa is ready to tell him whatever it is that’s on his mind. Instead he makes dinner, cooking the things he knows Oikawa likes to eat, offers up meaningless chatter about his co-worker’s cat, how Matsukawa and Hanamaki are asking if they’d be free for dinner on the weekend. Oikawa’s grateful smile makes his chest feel tight, and he presses a kiss to Oikawa’s temple.

It’s fine. They’re fine.

 

* * *

 

There’s a childlike desperation to the way Oikawa kisses him later, soft and slow one moment but hungry and demanding another. He gasps out Hajime’s name in a way that makes Hajime want to slow down, press imprints of himself into Oikawa, a reminder of some sort of permanence. He sucks bruises into Oikawa’s skin, sharp nips and biting kisses Oikawa responds with his own, nails scraping across Hajime’s back.

They leave marks on each other, soothed with kisses and gentle touches later. Hajime pulls Oikawa closer, their limbs tangling as Oikawa smiles at him, soft and sleepy. Hajime can feel his heart ache with how much he loves Oikawa, how he’d do anything to have Oikawa keep smiling at him like that.

When Oikawa falls asleep, Hajime wonder why is it he feels so disconnected even though they’d just had sex and Oikawa is lying in his arms. In the morning, he will wake up and make breakfast for them and kiss Oikawa before he goes to work. He’ll text Oikawa during his lunch break and maybe smoke a cigarette too many. He’ll take the train home when work is over and come home, sorting the mail as he walks through the door and hear Oikawa telling him _welcome home_.

Something about it feels like action for the sake of action, and another part of him means it so much his heart could burst. He falls asleep like that, thoughts swirling around his head but always, always going back to Oikawa.

 

* * *

 

They’re sitting on the couch, Oikawa’s head pillowed in his lap while he reads a book, fingers carding idly through the soft, fluffy hair. _I think we should stop seeing each other._ The words linger in the air and Hajime’s hand stills, snapping his book shut and putting it down. He wants to ask _why_ but there’s a sudden lump in his throat and it’s become difficult to say anything. _What do you mean_ is what comes out instead and he wants to take the words back.

Oikawa sits up and moves away, and Hajime wants to say _come back, wait, stop_ but the words are difficult and Oikawa’s hugging himself and sitting on the other end of the couch. He flinches away when Hajime tries to reach for him so Hajime awkwardly folds his hands in his lap. His fingers twitch and he wants a cigarette badly, to distract him if nothing else.

_I mean we should break up._ Hajime can feel it like a punch to his stomach, the way it leaves him breathless and unable to speak. He wants to give reasons, make excuses. But something in him registers the sort of finality in Oikawa’s tone, as if he’d already decided what to do. _Can I change your mind_ is what he asks, fingers clenching the hem of his shirt tightly.

And there’s that smile, the one so sad that it makes Hajime want to cry when Oikawa shakes his head, no there’s nothing they could change. He bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes iron and he nods. Still, he reaches out for Oikawa and pulls him into a hug, and Oikawa doesn’t resist, just whispers a soft _I’m sorry_ and Hajime wants to scream _sorry for what_ but he doesn’t, swallowing the words with the blood in his mouth.

Words are difficult for him and he knows this, but words cannot fix things like cruel fates and decisions already made. He can try, but words are clumsy in his mouth and instead he tries to tell Oikawa _please stay_ in the way he hugs Oikawa tighter, the tremble in his lips.

He thinks he understands though, what Oikawa tells him in a similarly hard embrace, the telltale wetness that seeps across his shoulder and the slight shaking in his shoulders.

Some things cannot be changed.

 

* * *

 

In the end, it feels like a dream, that maybe he’d never really met Oikawa. Like a ghost, with smoky kisses and broken promises. Hajime feels like he loses something with the loss of Oikawa in his life. The spaces are bigger in a way they never had been before. There are hollows that ache to be filled and Hajime ignores them, or else they will swallow him and he would never find his way out.

When he looks at the scattered pictures over his apartment, he tries to pin them together, tries to track the trajectory of a relationship that perhaps was doomed to fail. Still, he catches the softness in Oikawa’s gaze and the quirk of his lips, the way he was all long limbs and bright laughter and it hurts more than it should sometimes. He should burn all of these, he thinks. But Hajime has always been guilty of having too much sentiment as opposed to not enough, so he gathers them into a shoebox and stashes it in his closet.

He goes out with Hanamaki and Matsukawa again, his smile still not quite reaching his eyes. He goes to work, he starts smoking again. The smoke settles heavy into his lungs and is somehow less fleeting that way.

Maybe one day it will hurt less and he will look at them and maybe he’ll be able to see what went wrong. But until then, life would continue.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by Halsey's [Ghost](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ao4o-XRU_KM).
> 
> You can find me on twitter @ewagan if you feel a need to scream at me. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated!


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